


hum me to sleep

by kickassfu



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier Helps, M/M, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Short & Sweet, actually sleep no hanky panky lol, geralt can't sleep, soft bois, they sleep together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23866936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassfu/pseuds/kickassfu
Summary: “Anything you want to get off your chest?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt is about to grunt of course I don’t want to talk, when he continues, “Like your shirt?”At that, unexpected as it was, Geralt’s lips tick upward a tiny bit, and Jaskier smiles at him and waggles his eyebrows. Basically crawling, Jaskier sits next to Geralt, their sides stuck together in quiet company.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 209





	hum me to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I got this prompt on tumblr: sleep deprived geralt in a awful mood and it's just sad, on edge etc and jaskier caring for his beloved friend. im just a sucker for vulnerable geralt, there i said it
> 
> and here it is!!! i wrote 2 fics in a row, so if this one isn't as good i apologize LOL hope you enjoy it anyway ^^

_Geralt is fucking tired._

Actually, the word _tired_ isn’t even close to how Geralt feels. Exhausted comes a bit closer, but still not strong enough. Truthfully, no matter whichever word he uses it’s never enough to explain how frustratingly, deathly, bone-tired, sleep deprived, Geralt is.

And he doesn’t _want_ to explain it. He doesn’t want to speak, he doesn’t want to be touched, he doesn’t even want to exist at the moment. He just wants some godsdammned peace and quiet. To sleep for hours and hours, until the world feels right again.

It’s literally impossible; he just wants to fucking scream until he passes out.

“Geralt, are you alright?” he hears Jaskier’s voice, and maybe he’s started hallucinating, because where the fuck did he come from?

Looking up from the floor he was currently sitting in, he sees Jaskier come into his room and close the door behind him. A worried look on his face.

“Jaskier, do I fucking look alright to you?” it comes off harsh, and awful, and Geralt hates when he talks like this to Jaskier. He doesn’t deserve it. Especially when he’s trying to help, but he’s hurting, but still- “ _I’m sorry._ ”

Jaskier sits in front of him on the floor, _not touching_ , after all they’ve been here before and Jaskier probably knows exactly what not to do.

“I think you look magnificent as always. At least much better than when you’re covered in monster guts. But no, not alright at all.”

Geralt rolls his eyes at that, his bad mood stopping him from smiling or laughing - he appreciates the effort anyway. They sit in silence for a bit, with Jaskier humming low, and Geralt’s headache somehow isn’t pounding as hard anymore. His body not as tense.

“Anything you want to get off your chest?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt is about to grunt _of course I don’t want to talk_ , when he continues, “Like your shirt?”

At that, unexpected as it was, Geralt’s lips tick upward a tiny bit, and Jaskier smiles at him and waggles his eyebrows. Basically crawling, Jaskier sits next to Geralt, their sides stuck together in quiet company.

Geralt relaxes even more at the contact, their shared warmth. _It feels nice_. He never wants to move, maybe he’ll be able to sleep just like this.

“We should get you into bed.” Jaskier says, getting up.

“So I still can’t sleep, but now in bed?” 

“At least your body can rest that way. Come on.”

When Geralt doesn’t make any indication that he is in fact going to move, Jaskier rolls his eyes and starts taking off his clothes.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Well, I’m obviously going to sleep with you.” at the glare Geralt gives him, he adds, “Because I don’t have any money to get my own room. _Don’t be a pervert_. Why do you think I came up to your room?”

“To apparently take advantage of me, in my time of need.”

“Maybe so.” Jaskier laughs, sitting on the bed, “You’re going to join me, or not?”

Wanting to still be near Jaskier, there is only one real choice for him to make. And even if he can’t fall asleep, at least he’ll be next to his bard, warm and safe. Listening to his heartbeat, his soft breaths; being enveloped by all that makes Jaskier, _Jaskier_.

“ _Hm._ ” he grunts, meaning to say _scoot over_ , and Jaskier understands him well enough to do so.

They’re holding each other, (for maximum warmth Jaskier says every time, although Geralt is starting to believe maybe that’s not the real reason), and Jaskier starts drawing circles in his back with one hand, and the other playing with his hair, humming once again.

Geralt could cry with how absolutely intimate the moment is. Except he can’t really cry, so he sticks on trying to remember exactly how they’re touching, how he’s feeling, so he’ll be able to recall it for years and years to come. Saving it in the locked box in his heart, that only he can see and touch. So that he’ll never, ever lose this. 

His eyes are getting heavier, and heavier, and he thinks he feels Jaskier’s lips on his forehead, but isn’t sure. The last thing he remembers is Jaskier murmuring _sweet dreams, my sweet Witcher_. And how loved he feels whenever Jaskier is near. How light. How happy.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm also kickassfu on tumblr~~


End file.
